


Desperate

by AnnetheCatDetective



Category: Nine Months (1995)
Genre: Aftercare, M/M, Omorashi, Pet Names, Rope Bondage, Shower Sex, accidentally stumbling into kinks, fluffy BDSM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 19:01:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16310885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnetheCatDetective/pseuds/AnnetheCatDetective
Summary: First, Sam became his best friend's boyfriend. Then he became his muse and model. Then he became his sub.Now, he's not sure what's happening, or how to feel about it, but at least Sean is there to take care of him.





	Desperate

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mitzvahmelting](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitzvahmelting/gifts).



> (WELP, I've never written this kink before and I don't know how, but thanks to discord chat, I had to try.)

Sean has Sam hanging from the ceiling.

 

Well, from a suspension rig he has set up in his studio, anyway. He’s clothed for once, which he normally isn’t, when he’s posing. Loose linen pants and an open shirt, everything white, billowing between the dark-dyed criss-crossing ropes, everything tugged just so for the most artistic effect. His arms are bound behind his back, his ankles together, the ropes wrapped around his body everywhere keeping him several feet off the floor, feet only a little higher than his head. Every so often Sean comes over and gets one big hand under his chest to lift his top half higher, high enough that he can drink the water Sean provides him with, one of those big neon-bright AM-PM travel jugs with the big flexible straws. He gives Sam a moment after each swallow before he lets him dangle unsupported again, runs his fingers through his hair until he’s satisfied with how it falls, or just satisfied with the time he’d taken. 

 

The angle isn’t extreme enough to get all the blood rushing to his head, his body is almost entirely horizontal, only his legs slightly bent at the knee, partially elevated beyond that. It’s surprisingly comfortable, with the way the ropes support him, the harnessing around his hips and his chest. He’s fallen asleep modeling before, dozed off while bound on a settee with drips of hardened wax decorating his skin only to wake up to Sean wrapping a blanket around him and bringing a straw to his lips, tutting over him. 

 

Sean is… careless, inconstant, mercurial, irresponsible-- except here. Here, where he is achingly attentive, where he puts down his brush for Sam alone, to see to his comfort and well-being. This new artistic period is…  _ niche _ , to say the least, but he’s already found some success with it. Well, the first couple of paintings weren’t niche like this, weren’t really niche at all, they were just Sam. Sam on the sofa with his cat in his arms, Sam sleeping in Sean’s rumpled bed, naked. Face always turned or angled down, obscured, hair half in the way of it, the style soft, never something someone would see in a gallery and recognize him from. Sam still sees himself clearly in them.

 

It had been those two, soft and intimate, and then Sam from behind, arms bound and head bowed, among velvet drapes and cushions. Then the settee and the hot wax, and now this one. A lot of work in the brief time since their relationship has allowed for Sean painting him this way… since Sam realized he was in a situation that wasn’t fair to or healthy for anyone, since he realized Sean loved him, had perhaps always loved him, and since he realized he and Rebecca loved the idea of each other, ideas they’d formed rather independent of reality. Since he’d realized he loved Sean. He knows the real Sean, and Sean knows the real Sam, and they want the same things in life, or don’t want the same things. Sean understands loving children, being good with them, and not being a fit parent, not that Sean could accidentally get pregnant. Well, not that Sam could accidentally get pregnant. Not that either of them could. But he understands, anyway. And sticking around as an unfit parent realizing he doesn’t really love the mother of his child the way he thought he did wouldn’t be doing a child any favors, he likes to think he understands  _ that _ . Besides which, Sean dotes on the cat.

 

Sean made him his muse straight off. And then Sean had introduced him to BDSM, and if Sam had had to learn any of this any other way, he thinks he’d run screaming in the other direction, but this was Sean, and honestly, the idea of simply letting Sean do whatever he liked to him had been attractive. He’d let Sean get him  _ pierced _ and they hadn’t even technically been together at the time, but there had been such a heady pleasure in being the center of Sean’s attention, at being doted on and praised, at the way Sean had leaned in and murmured ‘but we’ll  _ match _ ’, his hand at the small of Sam’s back, sending a shiver through him. He’d jumped at it then. 

 

Really, after that, it had only felt natural to say yes, to say he belonged to him, and Sean had insisted, repeatedly, that this was all about Sam’s comfort, about what Sam was comfortable with, about treating Sam right, and that, too, had been heady. It had never been about treating Sam right before, in any relationship he’d ever been in-- not that he thinks he’s accustomed to being treated poorly, only that he’s not accustomed to being treated any way at all, it’s been on him to do the treating right. Sean wants to  _ spoil _ him.

 

He does a good job of it. 

 

“Honey, here.” Sean lifts him up again, makes him drink some water. “Do you need to come down?”

 

Sam shakes his head, and Sean kisses the top of his head, before gently lowering him to dangle. 

 

“Say something for me.”

 

“What do you want me to say?”

 

Sean chuckles softly, carding his fingers through Sam’s hair. “Just, uh… just need to know you can still talk.”

 

“Oh. Well, er, yes. I think so.”

 

“Yeah, I’d say you’re managing okay. You remember your safeword?”

 

“Don’t need to safeword.”

 

“Mm-hm, you remember?”

 

“It’s-- but I’m not!-- pamplemousse. But I’m not using it.”

 

“No, baby, I know. You’re staying put right where you are. Are you dizzy?”

 

“No… don’t think.”

 

“How are your shoulders?”

 

“Good. Mm, relaxed?”

 

“How are your wrists? Wiggle your fingers, how’s your circulation?” Sean asks, and he checks over the ropes everywhere, gives Sam a gentle pat when he wiggles his fingers obediently. “Toes next, circulation still good?”

 

“Everything’s good.” Sam promises. Sean gives his calf a gentle squeeze. 

 

“Good boy. And if it’s not?”

 

“I’ll use my safeword.”

 

“That’s right. And I’ll cut you down right away as soon as you do. Okay?”

 

“Mm-hm.”

 

Another touch to the hair, and Sean lifts him up a little for one more sip of water, before returning to his painting. 

 

Another hour of work, with the same regular pauses for water, and Sam finds himself squirming.

 

“How’s your circulation?” Sean asks, setting his brush and palette aside immediately and rising to move to Sam’s side.

 

“... Circulation’s, erm, fine, it’s fine, I’m-- It’s fine.”

 

“Okay, you thirsty?”

 

“No! Erm-- I’m-- it’s…” He squirms again. “I’ve just, er… had a lot.”

 

“Okay.” Sean strokes through his hair, and Sam lifts his head, biting his lip. 

 

“Which, you know… Which is to say, I could… I could use the, ah, facilities.”

 

“The facilities?” Sean raises an eyebrow. He trails his fingers down Sam’s back, between the ropes, and then over his bound arms. “And what, what facilities would those be?”

 

“You know…” Sam whines, twists around a little to make eye contact and sees the way Sean locks onto him, the way his eyes go dark. 

 

“Do I now?” He licks his lips, places a fingertip under Sam’s chin. “Mm, not so sure I do…”

 

“You  _ know _ …”

 

Sean’s other hand continues traveling over him, petting at his hair, touching him between the ropes. Sam  _ ought _ to complain-- Sean would untie him immediately if he did-- but he lives for being looked at the way Sean is looking at him, and he can’t bring himself to make the situation any plainer. Anyway, Sean does know what he means, he can handle being teased a little while before being brought down. He likes being teased, generally, certainly likes to be looked at as if he’s some delectable thing to be devoured, as if he’s the center of the universe and nothing else, even the painting currently in progress, really matters.

 

If he could just… not be untied for this, he wouldn’t want to be. Of course, when he’s being dangled from the ceiling, it’s not a practical desire. Even once he came down, he’d be trailing ropes all over the place if Sean didn’t undo them, and he hardly wants to do that, he’d probably trip himself and hit his head on the corner of the sink. 

 

If Sean ever put him in just a rope harness, no trailing ends, he could, even the hip harness wouldn’t get in the way of his unzipping, in other pants. It would make pulling these down harder, but potentially possible, just in the front. 

 

The rush of heat from being looked at and touched helps, anyway. The slight arousal takes his mind off of his bladder, and he thinks he could hold out a while, let Sean tease him before letting him down. 

 

“Oh, look at  _ you _ .” Sean breathes the words out, bending over Sam, tilting him up to be kissed. He pulls away, leaves Sam wanting more, and he chuckles over the open display of need, the way Sam twists in his bonds to lean after him. “You blush up so  _ pretty _ , honey.”

 

He cups a hand around Sam, the loose linen pants barely any kind of a barrier. The warmth of his hand, the way he can practically wrap his fingers all the way around Sam’s cock through the lightweight fabric. He slides his hand away far too soon, grinning wolfishly when Sam whimpers.

 

“What was that, baby? Did you need something? Because all you have to do is tell me, if you need something…” He says, and then he presses  _ up _ , his hand spread low over Sam’s belly, and it’s not hard but it’s enough, it’s right over Sam’s bladder. 

 

He squeaks, his face even hotter, and he can’t meet Sean’s eyes anymore, not when he’s lost control of himself, he can’t believe he’s lost control of himself… Here in Sean’s  _ studio _ , of all places, he can’t  _ breathe _ .

 

“Oh-- oh,  _ puppy _ …” Sean cups his cheek a moment, kisses the top of his head. “Hey, hey, it’s all right. Let’s get you down, it’s all right…”

 

He can hear him go for the medical shears, he doesn’t take the time to undo the knots, just lowers Sam’s legs first and cuts through the ropes before scooping him up in his arms. Sam feels completely filthy, but he hasn’t got it in him to protest, can only curl in against Sean’s chest and be carried out of the studio, struggling against the sob caught in his throat. He’s spoiled  _ everything _ , he’d thought he had time, thought it was  _ fine _ .

 

Sean carries him all the way to the bathroom, which… is impressive. Sean’s lifted him before, carried him short distances, even, but this… If he were in any fit state to swoon, he might, but he can’t really think about that now, can only think about the utter  _ shame _ of what’s just happened. And him a grown man!

 

“Come on, come on…” Sean sets him down, makes sure he’s steady on his feet before gently stripping him out of his clothes, balling them up and tossing them into the laundry basket. “That’s a good puppy, hey… You’re okay, you’re safe. Finish up, okay? I’ll, uh, I’ll get the shower, the shower going, you finish.”

 

Sean kisses his forehead and turns him towards the toilet, before going to the shower. Sam has always had a shy bladder-- he’s always had a shy everything-- but the pressure’s still there, and he’s already wet himself a little in front of Sean, so surely it’s less embarrassing to use the toilet while he’s in the room. His back is turned, it’s no less privacy than a public restroom would offer. Not that he enjoys using those if he can avoid it, that shy bladder, but it’s manageable. It’s some relief, anyway, and then he washes his hands, and lets Sean-- now naked as well-- usher him in under the hot water. 

 

“I’ve got you, I’ll take care of you…” Sean promises, works up a lather with his body wash that smells like pear or apple or some such thing. Sam has never really bothered to check what fruit it’s meant to be, he doesn’t think he’s had a single shower alone since moving in, he just lets Sean take care of him… He lets Sean take care of him now.

 

“I’m sorry…” He wibbles, head falling forward against Sean’s shoulder. “In your studio, and-- Oh, I’m sorry, really…”

 

“Puppy, no…” Sean coos, cradling him, washing his back. “I had you hanging from the ceiling, it’s not your fault. I, uh… I shouldn’t have, huh…  _ pressed _ . You didn’t safeword, you didn’t even say ‘I really have to pee right now’, or… or ‘Sean, I’d really appreciate being able to get to the toilet’, I thought… I thought we had some time, and you were… I mean, you know how I love it when you’re desperate…”

 

“I thought we had some time.” Sam echoes, the words smothered against Sean. “I did say I needed the facilities.”

 

“It didn’t sound very urgent when you say it like that. Sam… I’m sorry. I thought you were having a good time.”

 

“I was, and then, I mean-- and then everything went wrong, and in your studio, and…”

 

“Shh, shh…” Sean kisses his temple. “Sam,  _ puppy _ … it wasn’t that much, honey, there’s nothing to clean up. Except the ropes and the paint, I mean, there’s… It’s just the laundry, I’ll do the laundry. It’ll be like it never happened, okay? It’s okay. You didn’t do anything bad, we got carried away, I should have been more careful with you. Next time I won’t, uh… I won’t tease you so much. You can tell me if you need to come down, even if you think I’m having fun teasing you. You tell me and it’ll all be okay. I’ll get you down.”

 

“I know…”

 

“You don’t, you don’t disappoint me, Sam. Ever. You couldn’t.”

 

“I urinated.” He pouts. Pouts a little harder when Sean can’t help laughing.

 

“Well, that’s okay. I mean--  _ barely _ . Sam, honey… you know I’m always going to take care of you, right?”

 

He nods weakly, feels Sean kiss his temple again, nuzzle at his damp hair. 

 

“Are you my honey? Huh?” He drapes the washcloth over Sam’s shoulder, soapy hands sliding down to knead at his ass. “My baby? Are you my, my sweet puppy?”

 

“Yes…”

 

“Are you a good boy?”

 

“Um… er-- am I?”

 

“You are.” Sean cranes his neck, nipping at Sam’s ear, and Sam shivers when his tongue flicks at the little hoop there. “Mm, oh, you like that?”

 

He does, of course he does, he likes it every time, and it doesn’t hurt that Sean is paying so much attention to his backside, fingers occasionally slipping between the cheeks, never more than teasingly brief… He likes it to an embarrassing degree, likes everything to an embarrassing degree, and he’s particularly embarrassed to find himself aroused now, so soon after the actual serious embarrassment in the studio…

 

“Honey… mm, honey…” Sean takes the washcloth up again, giving Sam a little smack across the ass before he focuses on working up another lather. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you.”

 

He nudges Sam to stand upright, going over his chest with the cloth first, before draping it back over his shoulder. He kneels down before him, smirking up as he uses his hands to spread the lather over Sam’s thighs, and then up, soaping over his balls, over his cock, until he hardens fully.

 

“Sean…”

 

“Put your hands on my shoulders.” He says, and it’s not really an  _ order _ , but it’s an  _ instruction _ , and Sam follows it accordingly. “That’s a good boy. I’ve got to get you clean, don’t I?”

 

Sam shivers, doing his best to stand still as Sean’s hands slide over his skin.

 

“You know what I like, Sammy, you know what I like to see from my puppy, don’t be shy now… You have to let me know how you feel.”

 

“ _ Sean _ …”

 

“Beg for me.” He kisses Sam’s hip, where the water cascading over him has rinsed away the soap suds. “Make some noise, honey… don’t you want to make some noise for me now?”

 

“Y-yes…  _ please _ , Sean, don’t stop, don’t stop… I need you, I do…”

 

“Mm-hm…” Sean pushes Sam’s foreskin back, grinning at the way Sam yelps, the way his hips jerk forward. 

 

He toys with him a little longer, before rinsing him off and taking him into his mouth. He’s so  _ controlled _ , a thing Sam can hardly fathom, he never feels like he has control-- not that he wants it-- when he’s going down on Sean. He feels the way he feels when Sean is going down on him, desperate and tempest-tossed, with Sean alone to tether him to safer waters, Sean alone to lead him through the aching needs and wants to the place where all is pleasure and sweetness. Sean takes him there, whatever it is they’re doing, and all he ever has to do is enjoy himself.

 

With Sean sucking hard, swallowing around him, hands traveling over thighs and ass, stroking and squeezing and pinching, Sam can only hold onto him and moan and  _ come _ , hard and all too soon.

 

He’s ready to return the favor, when Sean rises, but he’s stopped short with a hand wrapped around the back of his neck, cradling his head, firm enough to keep him from lowering himself down to his knees. 

 

“Ah-ah-ah, did I tell you to? Give me my kisses, puppy, you’re not going anywhere ‘til I get my kisses.”

 

He moves Sam’s arm to wrap around his shoulders, and Sam sags against him gladly, cuddling into his broad, strong chest, starting his kisses at Sean’s collarbone and working his way up, dragging his tongue along Sean’s throat, his jawline, shivering at the soft, low groan he can feel as much as hear. The way Sean gets a handful of his hair and guides him into a deep, heated kiss, the way Sean’s cock presses into his hip, hot and hard…

 

“My good boy…” Sean sighs, nipping at his lower lip, at his ear. “Honey, why don’t you pass me your shampoo?”

 

Sam does, though he wraps a hand around Sean’s wrist, before he can start.

 

“Please?” He bites his lip, glances down before looking up through wet lashes. “You want me to, don’t you? You-- you want me?”

 

The way Sean’s interest zeroes back in on him and catches fire… he’s not sure he’ll ever get used to it. The way his eyes go dark and his fingertips trail slowly over Sam’s cheek, his jaw, down the side of his neck.

 

“And what do you want?” He asks, barely audible over the sound of the water. “What makes my baby happy?”

 

“You do. Always you. And-- you want me?”

 

“Always. Go on… you take care of me, and I’ll take care of you.”

 

The  _ gratitude _ , he’s not used to that, either. Sean makes it feel like a  _ gift _ , like this is something he gives Sam, and not the other way around. He hadn’t even given a blowjob before Sean… his own sexuality had been a confusing, jumbled mess best shoved down and not thought about, prior to having bisexuality explained to him in the first place, and even now, he has no idea how you publicly claim it… how you can feel confident in saying it’s who you are. All he really knows how to do is…  _ be _ , and let people think what they may, if he’s out with Sean. 

 

He wouldn’t have thought he’d be good at doing even that much, he’s never been good at not caring what people might think, but Sean puts a hand on him, says the right word, and he doesn’t care. That, more than the ropes and the hot wax, is what it’s all about, why he’d ultimately wanted what the whole BDSM thing promised. Sean stops him from worrying so much. Sean makes things feel handled. And Sean makes  _ this _ feel right…

 

“That’s right…” Sean sighs, easing Sam onto his cock, one hand already in his hair. “Nice and slow, honey, I know you’re eager for it, but take it slow for me…”

 

Sam hums, lets Sean control how deep he takes him. The hand leaves his hair only long enough to uncap the shampoo, to get a generous dollop, and then he’s massaging it through Sam’s hair, working up a lather as he directs the bobbing of his head. It makes it even sweeter just to relax into it-- and he’s always been good at that, Sean had been quick to praise him right off the bat for that. Not just for the pleasure he provided, for relaxing. And Sam has never been good at relaxing, but Sean’s hands in his hair and his voice sweet and low… Sam feels his troubles melt away.

 

Sean rocks his hips forward, groaning, taking Sam’s throat, and with every thrust, every stroke through his hair, every sweet word, he erases Sam’s earlier embarrassment. 

 

Sam swallows eagerly when Sean comes, stays down on his knees as Sean gently rinses the suds from his hair, waits until he’s offered a hand and told to come up.

 

The water’s starting to run a little cooler, and Sean bundles Sam into a towel, cuddling and kissing him as he gets him dried. Gets him changed into the monogrammed pajamas-- Sam’s initials, yes, but more importantly, Sean’s. 

 

“It’s the middle of the day…” Sam protests-- he feels he ought to-- but Sean scoops him up and drops him onto the bed anyway. “I have other clothes I could wear…”

 

“Later. We’ll dress up nice, I’ll take you out… I owe you a nice dinner. Ocean view.”

 

“Do you?” Sam smiles, letting Sean cuddle him down into the mattress. “Well, if you insist…”

 

“Don’t I? How are you feeling, puppy? How’s my honey?”

 

“I’m all right.”

 

“About earlier… You’re sure?”

 

He considers it a moment before nodding. “I’m not so sure I’m eager to wet myself again. But… I wouldn’t mind the teasing like we did, just… with better timing? I mean-- it’s, er, not about the urine for you, is it?”

 

“I just like making you blush. And squirm. I’ll always take care of, uh... cleaning you up, if we don’t hit the timing right. Always. Okay? That’s on me, and there’s nothing you have to feel bad about. I’ll take care of  _ you _ .” He kisses Sam’s temple. “I don’t mind one bit. All I want to do… is take good care of my Sammy.”

 

Sam wraps an arm around Sean, hanging on tight. Could he do it again? Sean had taken care of him, hadn’t let him wallow in misery and shame, but could they get everything they wanted out of it without taking it all the way there? Or would he come to feel better about it going that way?

 

For now, he supposes it doesn’t matter. For now, all he really needs to know is that Sean cares for him, will care for him. Whatever happens the next time he’s dangling from the ceiling… he’ll be prepared to enjoy it.


End file.
